09.07.11

Gome of the Week
Aykroyd tarnished the good name of The Blues Brothers long ago, but does he need to drag it through the mud again, in musical TV form?

Between this and threatening to make Ghostbusters 3 without Bill Murray, it is imperative that this man be stopped.

He clearly has a weakness for fudge. If we can mold some into the shape of a UFO and dunk it in vodka, I think we can keep him occupied.

 

 

 

 

 

This Week's Link That's Probably Not That Great
The Inside Scoop on the Fake Barf Industry - Interesting and in-depth. Really just mouth-blowing stuff.

 

This Week's Movie You've Probably Never Seen
She's Back (1989)

I usually watch my Waste movie on Monday nights, knocking it out before I go to bed. This marked the first time that I can remember where I actually had to turn the flick off halfway through it because I really felt like I couldn't handle it all in one sitting. I finished the rest tonight, but man: it was rough.

Don't get me wrong: I've seen plenty of movies as shitty as this, and some much worse. But none of them can stake claim to documenting the depths of Carrie Fisher's late-80's cocaine addiction as well as this one. It's 20 years after the fact, and I almost felt bad for watching this thing.

Is this the pathetic guilt of a dumbass who will always think of her as Princess Leia? Absolutely. Did I really feel that bad? No, I did not. Was this film directed by a guy who normally makes gay porn? Yes it was. (Seriously. Check out some of these titles.) And she made this the same year she did When Harry Met Sally. So bizarre.

I'm already pissed that I can't find any video clips of this movie (there are some screen grabs here), because I really wanted to drive home just how low-budget this thing was. I guess the pictures on the box should give you some idea, but even those can't begin to make the point. Everything seems to be a first take. Pretty sure I saw Fisher calling her dealer in the background in one scene.

She plays a nagging wife named Bea who, with her husband, moves into a new house in a rough-and-tumble neighborhood. On their first night there, street toughs break into their house, beat the shit out of her husband, and kill her. She quickly returns as a ghost that only he can see, and she proceeds to nag him into killing all the guys who had a hand in her murder.

It's basically 90 minutes of him arguing with his wife while he clumsily ices dudes, all of whom are thrown off by the fact that he's talking to someone who's not there, which is supposed to be hilarious, I think. You begin to get the vibe that he's just crazy and imagining all of it, but nothing's ever fleshed out well enough to make any of that clear. What is clear is that her appearances and vanishings are all done in the style of Bewitched. Like she's there, and then they hit pause on the camera and have her walk offscreen, fire it back up, and then she's not. Real trickery.

The director of this flick has done other non-gay-porn movies, and in a troubling reflection on how far my life has deteriorated, I'd actually like to see them. So if you come across a copy of Mutant Hunt, please buy it for me. I guess I need to be further scarred.

 

 

 

 

This Week's Record You're Probably Not Listening To
Larry Coryell - The Lion and the Ram (1977)

Every once in a while I'll pick up an LP because the cover strikes me for some reason, and I'll look at it, and I'll see that it's on a major label, and I'll consider for a second that it might actually be good.

This was one of those. I think this dude is well-known in some circles, and it's easy to see why. Larry's mad dextrous on the guitar, and this mostly-instrumental collection tends to get the job done, usually in odd time signatures.

The tracks on which he sings are as lyrically cosmic as the title, with couplets like "If life is a karmic dance/Why not take a chance," and I don't really go in for that patchouli-drenched claptrap. Stick to the pluckery, Lar. Title cut can be heard here.

 

 

 

 

This Week's Hip New Slang Word or Phrase
knuckle-deep - A sweet way to describe extreme nose-pickery.

Origin - Me while I'm driving.

Usage - "Oh, dude. Sometimes I just zone out and think about all that could be. It's like a karmic dance."

"Dude, is that what you're doing when you've got your index finger crammed up your nostril?"

"Dude, it's all part of my process."

"Dude, your process found you going knuckle-deep the other night."

 

This Week's Top Ten List

The Top Ten Surprises In the New Star Wars Blu-Rays:

10. Bonus Featurette: "Snorting the Set: Carrie Fisher Huffs Hoth"
09. Gag reel where 3PO calls R2 a "propped up second banana"
08. Jabba the Hut now voiced by an out-of-sorts Willie Aames
07. 3-hour conversation with Mark Hamill about the best ways to score free grub at Star Wars conventions
06. Menu screen is a looping shot of George Lucas sleeping on a big pile of money
05. Frank discussions about just how many hookers the actors playing the Ewoks killed during the shooting of Jedi
04. Greedo now trips Han Solo before they even sit down, and then makes a jerking-off motion the entire time they're talking
03. Obi-Wan now called "Dale"
02. Mon Mothma's topless scene
01. Fuck it, Tattoine now has like nine suns

 

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